Happily, I was placed in the perfect level for me – and it wasn’t the complete beginner level! I already knew the alphabet, how to count to 100, how to say my name, age, and where I’m from. No beginner here!
This is our textbook. Just kidding – it’s actually the textbook of my dreams. Yummm . . . tacos!
In my class, I have 5 Dutch kids who just graduated from high school, a middle-aged Danish woman, 3 Germans and Korean. Guess what? All of them speak fluent English! Wow. Talk about feeling like the typical dumb American; I’m a one-lingual “Yanqui.” (That’s the nickname over here for Americans – it’s pronounced yankee.)
My class meets for 4 hours each morning – and by morning, I mean before 2 p.m. The class is very informal and enjoyable. In the first few days of class, José, our teacher, pointed out several oddities in my Spanish. I took a crash course in Spanish from a Peruvian in L.A. The Latin American Spanish I learned sounds pretty provincial to a Spaniard. Glad we’re starting to clear things up!
It seems like I'm jumping into classes so soon after we moved to Sevilla. But, I get so frustrated when I cannot communicate anything beyond, "Una botella de agua, por favor." I often understand what someone asks me, but I simply don't have the words to answer them. Just like anyone, I have a need to discuss meaningful things with other people. Yes, Brad and I converse, but poor Brad should not have to be the sole recipient of my chatter.
I have to admit that it's nice to chat with the students in my class (in English) just to talk to someone. Soon I hope to have a bar or cafe where I'm a regular. I hear that's a great way to get to know Spaniards. Maybe the bartender at my chosen hangout will teach me a new phrase each night. Como se dice "dry martini?"
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